Sunday Evening Random Ramblings...

I'm here.  Surviving.  Busy. There's good. There's bad.  There's really good. And then there's really bad. It is an never ending up and down battle.

There is good in many things.  My children are growing. Thriving. And seem to have adjusted well to school.  We've got some personal issues with one of my children that has triggered some pretty crappy things w/in my own trauma history.  My youngest did not come home from school every day the first week begging to be home schooled.  He was super excited that one of his buddies from church, who has been home schooled until this grade, was in everyone of his classes.  They sit together or w/in a few seats in every class.  It was a great start to what was highly dreaded.

This was the first time in many years, okay ever, that I didn't want to send my kids back to school.  I've been off work since the beginning of February. I had surgery again right before school ended.  We had some pretty sweet moments this summer.  I loved having them home and I miss them after 4 day being back at school.

Twin Falls, Idaho
Day 8 of 15

We took a 15 day, 5000 mile, to many states to count, cross country road trip.  We visited my grandparents, my birth father's family, and then went to Utah and stayed w/my BFF for a night, spent the day w/her family on the weekend, and stayed w/my in laws.  We were ready to pull into our driveway after 15 days of being gone.  It was a wonderful trip and we made some good memories.

My children were not thrilled about riding in the car.  They wanted to fly. We've never done anything like this.  Our furthest road trip was about 5-6 hr drive.  Having the 1st leg of our trip be 28 hrs of driving was a bit scary.  We made it fun and stopped in a few different places along the way to stretch and do some sight seeing.  My 15 yr old is a budding photographer and kept her camera in her lap/near by the entire trip.

Today, there was a comment to something posted on my facebook blog page.  The first sentence was a kick in the gut.  "Think more positive."  Sure. Yep. I know I need to be more positive.  The remaining part of the message didn't come across well, either.  My gut tells me it was all in support and love. However, that is not what I heard.  The timing wasn't the best.

I've been at a fairly low place.  Therapy is hard.  It is *insert several curse words* hard.  The more intense it gets the more alone I feel. Yet, I know I am not. Truthfully,  I haven't felt this alone since sitting in hospital a week before the court hearing to disrupt our adoption. It's the kind of alone that makes me think...nobody gets it.  My therapist doesn't. My husband doesn't. My bff doesn't. My family doesn't.  During that time in the hospital, I had a visitor who happened to be the Relief Society President.  Her and I go way way back.   Sitting with another friend in church today, who I know 'gets mental illness' on a very personal level, I was reminded of the same message that my relief society president shared with me several years ago.  The Lord put the same message in my head today as he did that day.  And it brought me to tears.

Fear not! I am with thee.
Oh, be not dismayed.
For I am thy God.
And will still give thee aid!
I'll strengthen thee,
Help thee
And cause thee to stand.
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

I know that I am loved. I know that I am not alone. I know these things.  However, it is so very hard to remember in the depths of hell.

When the Unthinkable Becomes Your Reality

Yesterdays events in CT have torn me from one side to the other.  I sat at work in near comatose trance as I thought about "the parents of the gunman".  Thinking to myself that "this Unthinkable act of terror could easily be my reality".

I've started and deleted more blog posts in the last 24 hours than I ever have.  The thoughts, words, and feelings that are racing from one side to the other of my brain are not printable. They are stuck in a world of pain, hurt, grief, and so much more.  I can't get those words out. I've not slept. I tossed and turned. I would fall asleep only to wake in terror that 'this was my reality coming true'.  PTSD sux.  Heaven have mercy does it ever.

So I leave you with 3 separate posts that speak the words that I am unable to speak.

They are real.
They are raw.
They are hard to read.

I know 2 of the 3 of these ladies personally.

Please take the time to read them. Visit their blogs and share with them your love and support.

Soul Cancer/The Hearts and Hands behind the Guns (L* is fellow trauma momma. I love and respect her so incredible much.

When Reality Goes Beyond the Imaginable  (Kristine is a dear sweet friend. I wish we lived closer. I wish we could sit..her with her wine...me with my Diet Cherry Pepsi, wipe away our tears and love in each other like we both so desperately need.  I will get to do that with her in March.  March will not come soon enough)

Thinking the Unthinkable (this is a new blog to me.  Mommy Needs Therapy or a Bottle of Wine shared this link with me.)

Cry for Help? Maybe. Maybe, not.

This evening after a long day of appts (5 different appts folks...3 of the 5 were shoulder related, an appt with my therapist and a massage....thank heaven for wonderful massage therapists!!!)

When I got in my car and ready to head home I saw I had several private messages from our sons foster mom.  He turned 18 and has been on his own since he got out of jail a few months ago.  I keep tabs on him ever so often via FB. Sometimes more than others.

I've not heard from the FM for a while. I had just came out of my last appt...a therapy appt with J*.  And I couldn't really decide if I should respond back or not.  My gut told me I should.  And so I did.  And one thing led to another in a 2 minute conversation and I gave her my cell to call me since I was going to be driving and couldn't be texting and driving.

For the next 50 minutes the range of emotions went from pure rage, heartbreak over and over, anger, and over and over.

Our mental health system is broken.  It is broken in a really bad way.  Our police departments are not equiped to deal with people who are ill.  This young man is more than ill.  He's not received transition services and is on his own.  In a world that is cruel.  Doctors are cruel.

He needs help.
He doesn't have the mental or emotional capacity to ask for help.
Beacuse he is now 18 and his OWN guardian he can refuse help.

Today because of his mental illness he broke cour orders to and showed up at FM's house (they have phone contact and she sets up meetings with him in public only bc he's hurt her before).  When reminded he needed to leave he insisted that 'he was worried she was in jail or the hospital or something because she hadn't returned or taken his calls.  He WANTED help."  She called 911. And the small town police department, who are tired of hearing about/from him arrived.  He resisted arrest bc he broke court orders not to be there.  He was then tazed.  NOT ONCE...but TWICE.  He's asking for help. On more than one occasion in the last few weeks.  He's just not been able to 'ask' in the right ways. I believe strongly his emotional disabilities are getting in the way.

My heart aches for him. I've tried hard to distance myself. To protect myself and children.  Yet, this kid whom once called me mommy...whom...I was his mommy....he's hurting. He needs help. And doesn't have the ability to advocate for himself.  It is all so wrong.  So very wrong.  The system has failed this kid from the very day his birth mom abandoned him when he was 6 months old at her parents home.

It rips my heart apart.  I want to help him so incredible bad.  And I can't.  For my own mental health and safety.  And the safety of my children.

I came home and talked to my husband about my conversation with FM.  He seemed so incredible distant.  Concrete.  And just plain made it clear that 'he really doesn't care'.  I want to scream "how can you not care?"  I know. I know. He didn't say that. That is what I think and feel...that he doesn't care.

All I've ever wanted for this kid was for him to get the help he needed....for 14 yrs that has been my prayer.  I'm obviously praying for the wrong thing or not doing it faithfully enough...or something.